What It Is
by verbal acuity
Summary: AtoKiri - Atobe and Kirihara only love each other on their birthdays, is that the truth, or only a lie to cover up for being scared? - oneshot. Kiri birthday fic.


**Disclaimer**: I wish I owned. D:

**A/N**: .___. It's Kirihara's birthday! Love me for writing such a crack pairing. Atobe/Kirihara? Awesome. It's 5am :D been writing since like, 3:30am, and just finished. I love me some Kirihara. :3 Well, bedtiemz. Don't hurt me, plzzz.

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WHAT IT IS**

It was one thing to be going out with Atobe Keigo at a normal time of year, where you'd be getting expensive gifts and never-ending attention, just for keeping him company and warming his bed. But it was a completely different thing to be dating Atobe Keigo when it was your _birthday_. You get expensive gifts and never-ending attention, obviously… but you also get undying, unconditional love and devotion for twenty-four hours straight. And for one lonely Kirihara Akaya, it was more than enough. For just one day a year, it was worth it to be loved like he'd never been loved at all. Atobe gave him anything he could want, without even having asked. And he didn't mind at all.

"Akaya, your friend's at the door!" his mother's voice barreled through the house until a muffled squeak reached his door and pierced his ears. Jeez, she must be taking lessons from Sanada-fukubuchou, he thought and quickly took one last look in the mirror at his tousled hair, tight jeans and torn Mortal Kombat shirt. One of the best things about his boyfriend were that he could dress as savage as he wants, and Atobe still wouldn't criticize him. "Oh Akaya, I wish you'd dress nicer…"

The same couldn't be said for his mother.

"Atobe!" he said with a grin as he descended the stairs to see the richest junior high student standing in his foyer, dressed in what had to be the most expensive white suit he'd ever seen. "Where did you get that thing?"

"Akaya! Manners, please," his mother scolded, bowing to Atobe. "I am so sorry, Atobe-san, we've tried showing him—"

Atobe held up an elegant hand. "Oh it's no problem, Kirihara-san. Ore-sama is perfectly fine with this arrangement. Thank you for your concern, and for allowing me to take your son out this evening. He won't be back too late," he said, a charming smile decorating his flawless face.

With a courteous bow, he took Kirihara arm in arm and led him out the door.

- - - -

Inside the white limousine, Kirihara cracked a huge smile and said, "Wooow, you're _really_ good with parents, Kei-san. I almost wondered if you were the same animalistic Atobe I knew!"

"Ore-sama is _not_ animalistic, Akaya. I'd like to think I'm more… passionate, aan?"

Kirihara rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself irrelevant words about lies and deceit before he pressed a button on the side console of the limo. A Nintendo Wii controller popped out, followed by a Guitar Hero guitar. He locked them together and set the system up with a grin. "Agh, I've been waiting forever to play this, you don't even understand!"

"Hm, ore-sama hasn't even heard of this band… Metallica, I believe? But since you've been talking about it for months, ore-sama felt the need to show off his generosity. Be awed, Akaya. Ore-sama thrives to see your awe."

Leaning over in a quick movement before the song started, Kirihara placed a swift kiss to Atobe's smirking lips. "Thanks, Kei-san."

Just as the Unforgiven II started, he pulled away, gripped the guitar neck and readied for the first note, but was caught off guard as a soft hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a smooth lap. "What if I wanted your attention first, Akaya?" he asked, breath hot on the younger boy's neck. "What if I wanted your eyes on me-- _only_ me-- for tonight?"

Kirihara worried at his lip as those flawless lips pressed against his neck, licking and nipping. "Oh, God…" he groaned, fingers automatically gripping the soft, perfect hair. He needed something solid to hold onto, something that won't move. But that mouth wasn't giving him a chance, a moment to think about this. He could barely move, let alone think.

"It's alright, Akaya," Atobe whispered against his skin, 'causing the devil player to shudder. He slowly trailed his lips, his tongue down as far as it would go where a torn shirt wasn't covering. But the faded t-shirt would have to be discarded soon; there was only so much clothed Akaya that the Atobe heir could handle.

"Kei-san, not in the limo," he tried his best to mutter between groans. "Please."

Atobe nodded, pushed a button, and a screen came from the ceiling of the limo. "To the mansion, Fredrick," he said into the speaker, and the driver nodded before accelerating towards the Atobe mansion. The screen disappeared. "Better, aan?"

Kirihara nodded.

- - - -

Atobe shut the door to his bedroom and raised an eyebrow at the predatory look in the junior's eyes. "Akaya?" he inquired but, before he could even take a step towards the boy, he was tackled by a body smaller than his own. Way smaller. And they didn't even make it to the bed. "Akaya!"

A hot mouth descended on his, and Kirihara's tongue automatically begged for entrance, which wasn't exactly granted. Atobe fought back, rolling over and pinning the violent boy successfully. The green-eyed boy thrashed against the hold, but was held too tightly. The older boy smirked down at him and forced the other's mouth open with his tongue, winning the battle against all evil. Kirihara's eyes closed tight, fists clenching. The rich heir didn't even care anymore—he just wanted this boy to be his own finally.

Pulling back from the kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller body, tugged him up and threw him onto the bed, following soon after. First went the Mortal Kombat shirt, his hands now free to roam along the pale white chest, flicking at a nipple to see the lovely squirm it enticed. Oh God, did this boy know how to move; on the courts, and off.

"Perfect," he muttered, mouth pressing to the same nipple he abused before he licked a trail down the smooth flesh until he reached the boy's naval. His stomach clenched against the warm, wet tongue, fingers wrapping around the sheets under him. He bit his lip and tried so hard not to cry out as the experienced tongue dipped into his naval and swirled around.

Atobe smirked and kissed Kirihara's stomach softly before he ascended towards the pouting lips of the Ace. His desperate mouth opened to the needy tongue and gave up the fight as sneaky hands made their way into his jeans and rubbed against the heating flesh, begging to be released. "Please, Kei-san…"

Finally tired of the teasing, the elder unbuttoned the jeans and tugged them down, exposing the throbbing, beautiful lower body of the boy he couldn't get enough of, and proved to him just how much he loved him.

- - - -

Sometime in the middle of the night, Kirihara had heard Atobe speaking to his mother about keeping him the whole night, seeing as he fell asleep on the huge, comfortable couch-- ("I don't mind at all, really I don't, Kirihara-san.")-- He never found out if it was okay or not, he was too tired.

The next morning, he woke up to the flawless boy he fell asleep in the arms of. Atobe had never stayed with him throughout the night. He always hated the thought of clinginess and attachment; it seemed far too juvenile to him. Usually they'd ignore each other during breakfast, through the ride home, and for the next two weeks, until either Atobe or Kirihara needed love again. Never a good morning, I love you, or a single goodbye. And Kirihara never, ever woke up in the older boy's arms.

He tried his hardest not to move, to wake the boy up. He didn't wanna kill the moment, of finally knowing what it is to love for more than a day.

But Atobe woke on his own. "Good morning," he said with a smirk. He knew the boy's confusion, what was going through his head thanks to his Insight. And for once, he was tired of lying to everyone; tired of lying to Akaya, and to himself. Atobe Keigo had finally given up and let the junior Ace win. "I love you, Akaya."


End file.
